


Visitor, The

by Evelyn Cotesworth-Haye (orphan_account)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e08 The Women of Qumar, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-14
Updated: 2008-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Evelyn%20Cotesworth-Haye
Summary: "Your observational skills are borderline creepy."





	Visitor, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: A Post-Ep for The Women of Qumar.  


* * *

C.J. adjusted the pillow underneath her head. She would just close her eyes for a few minutes, and then she would finish reading that report. Just a few minutes. She knew after the day she had, she needed a good night’s sleep. But, thanks to a brand new pile of briefing books Carol had left as a gift before she went home for the night, that was not an option for C.J.

And then her desk phone rang. “Damn it.” God’s sarcasm, she thought. Not that C.J. thought God was up there controlling everything, anyway. Not after the day she had. She’d like to challenge religious fundamentalists with the information about the abuse and mistreatment of the women of Qumar. Religious theory and practices had done a lot of good for Qumari women. Now I’m babbling, she thought. Sarcastic babbling. This is what happens when I don’t sleep—

The phone rang again. Who was calling anyway? It was almost midnight, and as far as she could tell, almost everyone had gone home for the night. She rose slowly and slid into her desk chair, reluctantly picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey,” a familiar voice replied. Immediately, C.J. pictured the scruffy redhead. How long had it been since she’d seen him? Almost two years? And she could still picture him like he had been sitting in her pressroom that morning. They had talked every once in awhile over the phone, but it was nothing like their old banter. 

“Hi.” She was tired. 

“I saw you on TV tonight.”

“Yes, I do these things called press briefings.” She didn’t mean to come off sarcastic, but her day was taking its toll.

“Well…” C.J. could tell Danny had picked up on it. He seemed to be debating whether or not to say what was next. “I just wanted to tell you…that you looked beautiful.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice, and C.J. was speechless. That certainly came out of left field. He hadn’t said anything like that since his old asking-her-out kick. Was he just trying to mess with her?

“Danny—“ C.J. began.

“No,” he cut her off. “You did—you do. You look beautiful. Just take the compliment. I’m not trying to play games here.” His words caused a flutter in her chest, but C.J. attributed it to her current exhausted state. She paused. Her brain was tired, and she wasn’t sure where to go from there. 

“Where are you?” she asked, changing the subject.

“At my desk.”

“I know that. I mean where are you? Canada? Polynesia? The North Pole?” She heard him chuckle. 

“No, I’m at my desk. Well, what was my old desk as a reporter. You know, next to the pressroom.” 

“You’re in the White House.”

“Correct.” 

“Danny!” she practically screamed. Years without seeing each other or not, some things never changed. 

“’Kay, be right over.” C.J. slammed down the phone, her adrenaline making her substantially more awake than she was five minutes ago. She was annoyed he hadn’t told her he was coming…and a little anxious. There was a tap on the door, and Danny poked his head around, grinning. 

“Hey,” he greeted her as he stepped into the office and shut the door. He was less shaggy, she thought. C.J. rose from her chair but didn’t move from behind her desk. She failed to stop a small smile from forming on her lips. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she demanded. 

“It was kinda last minute. I just landed an hour ago.” His eyes traveled over her face, studying her. 

“Josh knew, didn’t he?” C.J. asked as she walked around to the front of her desk and leaned against it. She wanted to touch him. And quickly suppressed that thought.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.” C.J.’s eyes relayed the ridiculousness of his presumption. “Wasn’t even sure you’d still be here. It’s late,” he explained. She sighed.

“Well, I’m here,” she replied. It was silent for a moment. Then, Danny walked up and took her hand, bringing it slowly to his lips. It was polite, but he never broke eye contact. She felt that flutter again as he released it slowly. Not knowing what to do next, C.J. crossed to the couch and sat down, resting her head on her hand. Danny followed suit, facing her.

“Rough day?” he asked softly.

“How could you tell?” she replied with a bit of sarcasm. Danny brushed it off. 

“Well, first of all, the shoes are off.” He gestured to her feet. She fought a smile and the urge to tuck them under her, out of sight. His eyes traveled over her features again, and she blushed a little under his scrutiny. “Your hair was down at this morning’s briefing, and now it’s not.” She brushed a strand behind her ears. “And, finally, there’s this.” Danny paused for a moment and then brought his hands up to C.J.’s face, gently brushing his thumbs under her eyes. She knew she was sporting some dark circles and closed her eyes for a moment. C.J. marveled at the short length of time it had taken to feel comfortable with the reporter again. He just had a way of doing that, she thought. Had it really been two years? 

“Your observational skills are borderline creepy,” she finally spoke. He removed his hands.

“Why, thank you. A high compliment for a reporter.” C.J. grinned, and she could tell he was glad he caused the reaction. She paused, looking at him. 

“We’re off the record?”

“Do you see a notebook?” Danny put his empty hands up. C.J. paused again.

“I got a bit…emotional with Nancy McNally today.” 

“Those are some words you don’t hear strung together very often.” 

“Try ever.”

“True.” His eyes encouraged her to continue. 

“It was about our deal with Qumar.”

“The arms sale?” She took a breath and then spoke, softly but forcefully.

“We’re putting guns in the hands of people who abuse and beat their women,” she uttered slowly, her eyes watering. Maybe talking about it wasn’t such a good idea. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did with her.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your opinion. For something that matters.” Danny shook his head. “You’re doing your job.” 

“I know, but I…we were in the hallway in front of the pressroom, and it was inappropriate. I was practically crying,” C.J. managed as tears started down her cheeks. She almost laughed at how ridiculous she felt, crying to Danny over crying to Nancy McNally. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Danny wiped her tears with his thumbs. 

“I’m sorry,” she choked. And then she did laugh, through her tears. “I must be really over tired.” Danny chuckled. “This has been a real fun visit for you so far.” Danny looked at her sincerely.

“I’m seeing you. It’s a great visit. And clearly, you need me around here.” Danny grinned and C.J. smiled back. Maybe talking to him about this wasn’t such a bad idea. “Come here,” he commanded as he pulled her over to him. He wrapped his arms around her back, and she didn’t fight it, draping her arms around him. She rested her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a few moments, without talking.

“Can you start making visits at more regular intervals?” C.J. asked, muffled by his shoulder.

“I’ll talk to my editor.” Danny felt her grin into his shirt. C.J.’s tears had subsided, and she began to relax, breathing in his scent. He traced his fingers over her back, and all thoughts about Qumar and Nancy McNally disappeared as she realized Danny was still holding her. In the two years of their professional and pretty-much-nonexistent personal relationship, they’d never done this. C.J. decided that she liked it. A lot.

“How long are you here?” she asked, and Danny pulled away to answer. She kept a hand on his arm, not wanting to break contact. 

“That depends on how much my editor needs me to do. I was checking on something for him,” Danny explained with an arm gesture toward the pressroom. 

“You have a place to stay tonight?” C.J. asked, quickly realizing how many different ways her question could be interpreted. “I’m not…you know. I’m just--” She kept her tone and expression matter-of-fact, but Danny’s eyes gleamed as he cut her off.

“--Actually, I’m subletting my apartment. I was planning on a few evenings at the Banks Hotel.” 

“Want to give me a ride home?” C.J. offered as she rose and crossed to her desk. Danny cringed a little.

“I took a cab here from the airport.” 

“Oh.” She began to gather her things.

“But what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t see you home?”


End file.
